Incident in Dodge
by Accidental Cougar
Summary: I've had this written, yet unedited for some time. Figured I might as well go ahead and post it. Bear with me on it please as I might not get it posted as quickly as I usually post and it is different from what I normally do.
1. Chapter 1

**Incident in Dodge**

I don't own these characters; I just like to spend time with them. No other profit to be had other than that.

**(Set after Season 19)**

**M&KM&KM&KM&KM&KM&K**

Matt Dillon and Kitty Russell were dead and not a single one of their friends mourned them. Not a one. To be certain, there were few who were glad of the matter, but none who actually grieved.

Now, before you get all excited and upset at me for saying that, let me tell you two things. First of all, I am only a humble story teller. Nothing more. I shall neither gain nor lose by telling you this tale. And secondly, this is just that. A tale. A tale to be told on a cold winter's night when there is little else to do besides sit by the fireplace and pray for spring.

So sit back, relax and I will relate to you, all that I know in this matter. And I assure you, I know quite a bit.

It all began years ago when I was very young woman. (I'm old now, in case you couldn't tell.)

I was fairly new to town, having only arrived by stage just 60 days prior. Being a young green kid from Bug Tussell, I have to admit, I was a little intimidated by the rough town of Dodge City. I had heard many evil things about it. I was told by more than one person that a proper young woman had no business in there.

But you see, I was tired of being a proper young woman. I didn't want to be proper. I wanted to be different. But the only thing different about me was my name and it was just a nickname given to me by my mama. (My real name is none of your business.)

And I was tired of being thought of as the property of my father and older brother. Tired of being told that my place was to keep their house, make their meals, do their washing and accept whatever man, they deemed suitable for me.

I suppose I should've been grateful and maybe even flattered slightly, that so far, they hadn't deemed any man suitable. However, I knew, just as surely as I knew my name was Randi Larkin, they weren't concerned with who was right for me. They were concerned with who would do their chores once I was married off.

So it was, with that thought in mind, that I rose early one morning, packed what few belongings I had, including the small amount of money I'd been able to squirrel away over the last four years and left. I was 18 years old and thought myself quite capable and plenty old enough to take care of myself.

I soon found out differently when I finally arrived in Dodge City, Kansas, Gomorrah of the Plains, as it had once been called. Of course, by the time I finally arrived on the scene, Dodge was less Gomorrah and more plain. I learned from a very talkative drummer, whom I'd shared a stage ride with, that a US Marshal by the name of Matt Dillon had pretty much cleaned up the town of Dodge as well as a large portion of Kansas.

That thought should have made me rest a little easier as the stage carried me ever closer to it, but it didn't. You see, it was excitement I wanted. I'd had enough of clean on the farm.

I yearned to be free from the long tailed cotton frocks with the long sleeves and proper undergarments that good girls wore. And tired of always having to curtsy and be polite and never being allowed to do what I wanted. I was tired of being a good girl.

I wanted to be a bad girl for once in my life. I wanted frilly dresses which left little to the imagination as to what my legs looked like and I wanted to be able to laugh when I wanted at whom I wanted and how I wanted without being told it was un-lady like. I didn't want to be a lady and from what Doby Clark told me, Dodge was the place to go to accomplish my goals.

Who is Doby, you ask? Only one of the sweetest and wildest men you'd ever want to meet, is all. If his tales were to be believed, and at the time I did believe them, he'd done just about everything a free man could do in the span of his 60 years. Hunter, trapper, buffalo hunter, Indian fighter, guide for the army, prospector, cowboy and a dozen other things I've either forgotten or don't care to mention.

From the time I was 14, which is when he first came to work for us on my papa's farm, he filled my head and my heart daily with tales of his travels and exploits. Of course, Papa and my brother Gary knew nothing of it. If they'd of known what things Doby had told me, they'd fired him and locked me away for a good number of years.

But they didn't know, and Doby and I continued to talk. It was from that talk that I got the desire, actually the fever, to go to Dodge and get myself a job as a saloon girl in the famous Long Branch saloon. Silly? Maybe. But when I figured that I'd stowed away enough money to do so, I took off.

I arrived in Dodge City exactly three days later, jostled, weary, aching and feeling like I'd eaten half the dust between Bug Tussell and Dodge. But I was there at last and I couldn't be happier.

That happiness lasted all of about 30 minutes. Just long enough for me to realize that I was in a strange town, with people I didn't know and all of about five dollars left to my name. And to make matters worse, I happened to catch a glimpse of myself in the storefront window of the mercantile and realized, no one, absolutely no one, would hire me as a saloon girl.

At least not the way I looked right then. You see looking back at me from that window, was not the petite, blue eyed blond with the slim figure and firm chest that I envisioned when I thought of myself or looked at myself in the pond back home. (Papa never let me have a full length mirror. He said it was sinful for a young girl.)

Nope, what I saw in the window, was a bedraggled girl, with hair sticking out every which way, wearing a dress that was just a little too big and looking like she'd just been rescued from a cave somewhere. That girl would not only not win any prizes for beauty, but more importantly to me, she wouldn't win a job at the Long Branch. And that was what I'd come for.

Mentally weighing my options, I decided my first course of action was to get a room over at the cheapest place in town and get cleaned up. What little money I had, might only pay for one nights lodging, but it at least would allow me the opportunity to get prepared for my job interview.

However, little did I know, as I walked down the boardwalk, my job interview was going to come sooner than I expected.

TBC

**(Author's Note: We all know, I can't stand those movies and I refuse to acknowledge season 20 as it appeared on TV and I missed Sam and Louie so much so please keep that in mind while reading this.)**


	2. Chapter 2

Sorry about leaving you back there on chapter one but I did tell you I'm old woman. I take my time about everything. Besides old women have things to take care of that young ones don't. (I won't explain, you'll understand one day.)

Now, where _did _I leave you?

Hmmmm.

Oh yes.

I was scurrying down the boardwalk as fast as I could, praying fervently that no one would spot me looking like a drowned rat (only without the water) until I'd had a chance to transform myself, when suddenly two strong arms, grabbed me about the waist and spun me effortlessly around before setting me down in front of the largest, hairiest and dirtiest man I'd ever seen in my life. He had more hair than my papa's sheep dog did and was twice as dirty.

"Hey, lil' darlin'." He literally leered at me.

Me! The one who looked bedraggled.

"How's about we find us someplace and get cozy?"

I didn't know whether to be offended or amazed. Back home in Bug Tussell, no one ever acted like this.

Ever.

But, I patiently reminded myself, I wasn't home. I was in Dodge City and that type of excitement was what I'd come for. Wasn't it? Well, okay, maybe not that particular type of excitement and certainly not with a man, if you can call him that, like that.

"Excuse me, Sir." I pulled my arm out of his filthy grasp. "But I have no desire to get cozy with you or anyone else. Now, if you'll let me go." Turning, I started to walk away but the man caught me again and pulled me back like I was some sort of rag doll.

"Uh, huh, honey." He breathed fetid breath into my face making me gag and cough. "I said we was going to get cozy."

"No!" I cried as I began to struggle, knowing even as I did that the war was over before the battle even began. "Please don't."

Suddenly, the man released me and I went stumbling backwards to be caught at the shoulders by someone who smelled of honeysuckle. Before I could determine who it was who held me though, I saw the most astounding sight, a girl like me is ever likely to see.

A man, who had to be close to seven feet tall, 6'7" I later learned, with an extraordinary build and strength, swiftly moved in on the man who'd accosted me and with one punch laid him out neatly on the boardwalk in front of us. One punch. That is all it took and that ogre in buckskins was down for the count. I had never seen anything so amazing in my entire 18 years.

That is until the tall man turned and looked at me and took my breath clean away. He was not only big, but he was gorgeous to boot, in an older man sort of way. Only, right then, I could've cared less about how much older than me he was, because he was gorgeous. Blue eyes, ruggedly handsome face, dark, slightly graying hair and muscles. Did I mention the muscles? Oh, Lord, he had muscles. I was instantly smitten.

It was then that the woman, whose soft hands still steadied me from behind, spoke up and the spell was broken. "Matt?" The woman spoke in a liquidly, smoky voice unlike any I'd ever heard before. "I thought you told him to get out of town."

"I did, Kitty." The man she called Matt shrugged. "Guess I didn't make it clear enough, though. I will now. After he spends some time in jail, that is."

After staring dumbfounded at the beautiful man in front of me, I finally managed to close my mouth to keep the bugs out and turned to see the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. A matching set! Two beautiful people in one place and both of them right there in front of me. I was beyond stunned.

"Are you alright?" The woman, Matt had called Kitty, asked me.

Numbly, I nodded, not able to actually form words at the moment.

"Are you sure?" A small crease formed in her forehead and it actually grieved me to think that I had anything to do with that tiny imperfection in her perfect face.

I nodded again and this time, I actually managed to say something. "Uh, yes, Ma'am. I'm alright. He just startled me a little. Men don't usually do that sort of thing back home."

The woman smiled and the crease disappeared and I was so relieved.

"Kitty," the tall, beautiful man spoke, drawing my eyes back to his handsome form. "I'm going to take him to the jail and get Festus to look after him. I'll see ya later, okay?"

"Alright, Matt." She nodded, giving him a certain look that I'd only seen once before in my life.

I was a little girl and my momma had given my papa a look like that one night, when they didn't know I was awake and watching. It wasn't long after, that my mama told my brother Gary and me that we were going to have a baby brother or sister in a few months.

I didn't know too much back then and had no way of knowing what that look had to do with a baby, but I did by then and I reddened when I saw it on the faces of those gorgeous people in front of me. Ducking my head, I tried hard to hide the blush I was sure had risen to cover my face. (Farm girls blush a lot by the way.)

"Glad you're alright, Miss." The tall handsome one told me as he pushed the monster past me and down the street.

The stunning woman gently pushed my chin up and looked kindly upon me. "Why don't you come along with me?" She smiled genially." You can get cleaned up and settled and then perhaps tell me some more about back home."

Right then, I didn't think there was a thing in this world that I wouldn't have done, had that lady asked me to. Nodding again, I reached down, reclaimed my worn carpet bag and followed the elegant red head to of all places the Long Branch.

The Long Branch!

Can you believe it!

The very place I'd come to work at, and here I was following the owner into it and up to her rooms, as though I had a right to do so.

And yes, I knew she was the owner as soon as she headed for the doors. I remembered instantly what Doby had told me about the beautiful red head named Kitty Russell who owned the saloon and the heart of the tall US Marshal, Matt Dillon.

That was part of the reason I wanted to work there. I was hoping all that beauty and charm would maybe rub off on me a little and I could perhaps win the heart of a man like Matt Dillon. He of the oh so blue eyes and mighty fists and really nice bod… Well, you get my point.

Anyway, as I followed Miss Kitty Russell in through the bat wing doors and then up the stairs to her rooms, little did I know then what an extraordinary experience I was in for.

TBC

(Author's Note: In the previous chapter, I mentioned a town called Bug Tussell. There really is a town by that name in Oklahoma. Of course, it was founded well after Oklahoma became a state and Oklahoma didn't become a state until 1907. But I love that name. And in case you're wondering, yes, I've been there. It's small but it's nice.

Oh and Mommoo, yes from what I understand, a large part of the reason they had no season 21 was because the ratings dropped when Kitty left.)


	3. Chapter 3

Now, before I go any further, I know you all are wondering about my opening statement in this tale. Let me assure you, I will get to that part and you will understand completely what I was talking about. But it is not yet time to touch upon that subject. You need to know some things first. Once you do, then I'll tell you the rest of the story.

Okay?

Good.

Now, where was I?

No, don't tell me. It's best I remember it on my own. Doctor said something about exercising my brain. Better than the rest of me, I guess. Too old to exercise the rest of me. Now…..

Oh, yes.

I left off where I was trailing along behind Kitty Russell like some stray hound following a meat wagon. While that analogy isn't exactly right, it's not too far off the mark. I was trailing after her and like a cur who wants what that meat wagon had, I wanted what Kitty Russell had, or at least something similar.

Oh, to be sure, I would've thought I'd died and gone to heaven should Matt Dillon turn those baby blues on me as he did her, but I knew without anyone telling me, he wouldn't. Not just because of the way I looked, but more importantly because of the way _he_ looked, at _her_. He might've noticed a pretty girl, (not me, a _pretty_ girl), but she wouldn't have been able to hold his attention. Miss Kitty Russell had all of that.

However, although Matt Dillon was out of my reach, it didn't mean that there might not be another man out there, tall, handsome and rugged, who'd fill the bill for me. All I needed was the right training and the only one who could give that to me, was leading me up to her rooms.

When the elegant lady opened the doors to her grandly appointed living quarters, I nearly swooned. Or at least, I would've nearly swooned if I'd been the sort of girl who did that sort of thing. I wasn't but I came close. The room we entered was astoundingly beautiful and classy and perfect, very much like the lady who lived there.

This place, compared to my little room at home was like a gold plated mansion compared to a cave. At home my room was barely big enough for a small bed, my chest and room between them. Papa said bedrooms didn't need nothing else cause all you ever did in them was sleep. He may have been right, but Lord he might've changed his mind if he'd a seen Miss Kitty's rooms. (That is after he died of shock he might have.)

"Oh, my!" I gasped. "This… this room is wonderful."

"You like it?" The lady asked, seemingly pleased that it had my approval.

I nodded enthusiastically like my head was on a spring of some sort rather than my long thin neck. "Yes, Ma'am. Very much so."

"Have a seat." She offered, rather than demanded. Although I wouldn't have minded if she had demanded. I was already as smitten with her as I was with the Marshal.

But although I'd probably have done just about anything she asked of me, I refused to sit down. I had no intentions of putting my dusty behind on her fine, clean chairs. "Uh, no, Ma'am." I shook my head. "I'm awful grimy from the stage ride and I don't want get your chairs dirty."

"Non-sense." She shook her pretty head. "Have a seat. Could I get you something?"

"Oh, oh no, Ma'am." I hastily assured her. There was no way I was gonna let this woman wait on me when I knew it should be the other way around.

Smiling graciously, Miss Russell took a seat on the bed and patted the space beside her. "Come on, have a seat and tell me about yourself. I can tell you're new here."

Cautiously, I did as she asked and sat down next to her, trying hard not to move too fast so as to dislodge as little dust from my clothing as possible. "Yes, ma'am." I finally answered. "I am new here. My name's Randi Larkin. I just got in on the stage. I came here looking for a job."

"A job, huh?" She gave me an appraising look and I felt woefully lacking, in just about everything a girl looking for a job should have. "What kind of job exactly."

I dropped my head. "Working for you." I mumbled, already sure she would scoff at that notion after seeing what I looked like. Dang, I cursed myself for my plain looks.

"Have you ever worked in a saloon before?" She asked, not unkindly. She didn't scoff once. (I thought that really kind of her, cause I'm not so sure I wouldn't have.)

"No, Ma'am." I shook my head, refusing to look up at her. I was feeling more and more uncomfortable by the moment, though not because of anything she did or said. But simply because I was beginning to realize how stupid I was to take off cross country to find a woman, this woman, and ask her to hire a silly, unattractive farm girl with no experience. I was just glad she wasn't laughing at me.

But instead, she did something that was totally wonderful. She actually hugged me and smiled. "Working in a saloon is a tough job and not too many young women like it, despite what they think. Are you sure this where you want to work?"

"Oh, yes, Ma'am." I practically jumped at her. She didn't say no and she didn't laugh. I counted that a good sign. "I mean, well, yes. I do want to work here but I guess, well, after seeing me, you probably wouldn't want me working for you. I am kinda plain and all." I kinda peered over at her afraid to look her fully in the face.

"Nonsense." The pretty woman at my side said again. "You are not. You just need a bath and some decent clothes, is all. Do you have anything better in your bag, than what you've got on?"

Regretfully, I shook my head. "This is actually the best dress I have."

Miss Kitty favored me with another smile as she got up from her bed and started towards the door. "Wait here a second and let me see what we can do."

Before my startled mind could even begin to form a reply, she disappeared from the room, only to return a few minutes later.

"I asked Sam to bring up some water for a bath for you. And while you're doing that, I'll see about getting you some other clothes. Hopefully something that will fit a little better than what you're wearing."

"Oh, no.!" I protested again. Although, I have to admit, my protests were growing weaker. "Honestly, I couldn't let you do all this for me. I mean you don't even know me."

Crossing her arms in front of her, she shook her head. "Of course, I do. You're my new friend and maybe my new employee."

And that is how I came to work for Kitty Russell and to be present the fateful day that later events transpired.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Ah, the stories I could tell you about my first few weeks as a saloon girl at the Long Branch saloon. I could, but I won't. There are too many of them and most of them are either personal, boring or both.

I will tell you this. I grew up a lot during those weeks. And I learned a lot. I learned that not every thing a man, who'd been drinking, said was the truth. And sometimes the most innocent of faces, hid a secret. I learned that it's usually better to listen than to talk and better to talk than to hit. And I learned that as long as you have love, you have everything.

My employer taught me that last thing. She and the man she loved as well as several other people that I came into contact with daily showed me a lot of things like that. Oh they were wonderful people.

Take Sam, the bartender, for instance. Tall, craggy faced, baritone voiced, stalwart, trustworthy, honest and totally loyal to Miss Kitty. To be honest with you, I think in a way, he was maybe just a little bit in love with the lady. I know there was nothing he wouldn't do for her. But he was kind to everyone.

Sam treated me, as he did the other girls that worked there, with a sort of decency that even some men from my home town didn't display for their own wives. He was a truly good man, if ever there was one.

Doc Adams was another good man. An older gentleman with a main of white hair and a mustache he was constantly swiping, he had twinkle in his faded blue eyes that belied his attitude. He liked to pretend he was gruff and irascible* but in all actuality*, he was a good and decent man who treated all of his patients and his fellow citizens with respect. He made them feel equal to himself as well as everyone else.

Then of course, there was Louie. I really liked that little man. Obviously intelligent and raised in polite society, he was still self-effacing* and kind. How he came to depend so utterly on alcohol to keep him going, nobody but perhaps Doc and maybe Miss Kitty and the Marshal knew. But he did depend on it. And it was a shame.

(* = _Don't ask where a small town girl got such big words, just accept that she did and knows how to use them)_

Of course there was handsome, young, dark haired and eyed Newly, the gunsmith, part-time doc and part-time deputy. If ever a man was multi-talented, he was. But he carried around with him a sort of sadness. One of the girls, Constance, said he'd been married a couple of years ago and his wife died. I felt sorry for him but he never seemed to feel sorry for himself. He just carried on.

Now before I go any further, and before you get any romantic notions in your head, let me stop you right there. I liked Newly, really I did. But we just never seemed to click. I always thought I was rather plain, and perhaps Newly did too, although he was too much of a gentleman to mention it. But whatever the reason, there was just never anything there.

Now, that I've got that straightened out, where was I?

Ah, yes, the people of Dodge.

Well, I've covered most of them, except Festus, of course. Now there's a character if ever there was one. Rough in looks, with a scraggly dark beard and a squinty eye and a twang that kept going long after he'd stopped speaking. Most people didn't take him too seriously. But I did. I saw him in action a couple of times when the Marshal wasn't around. He was a lot smarter and braver than he was ever given credit for. And like the other men I've mentioned, he loved my boss.

There are many others in town that I saw quite often. Like the other girls I worked with on the evening shift. I've already mentioned Constance. Taller than me and blonder and older, with deep green eyes that always sparkled, she was a pretty woman. She'd worked in a saloon for a good number of years, but she never let it harden her, the way I've heard it could. She always had a quick smile and a hearty laugh and put up with far more than I think she should have.

More than Miss Kitty thought she should have, that's for sure. There were actually a few times Miss Kitty had to take a hand in keeping men from hurting Constance, simply because Constance wouldn't do it. She'd always say she didn't like to make trouble. Miss Kitty didn't like trouble either, but she'd gladly scratch a man's eyes out if he bothered one of us.

Like Sue. She was about my height, with dark hair and eyes and the sweetest smile of anyone I'd ever met. Sue never really told me where she came from or how she became a saloon girl, but I have a notion, her story wasn't too much different than mine. She, like me, was totally in awe of Miss Kitty, and like me and Sam and most others, there wasn't much she wouldn't have done for the lady.

That brings me to my employer, Miss Kitty Russell. I've already related to you how beautiful she was and how kind and gracious towards even people like me. She was also very smart. From what I understand, she started out as a saloon girl then finally bought into the saloon as a half owner before becoming sole owner of the place. From what Sam told me, the Long Branch was the finest saloon this side of the Mississippi and it was all due to Miss Kitty and her genius.

But I haven't told you about her bravery. She was without a doubt the…

Oh, no, wait a minute. To tell you that, I'd have to tell you some other things and it's a little too early to do that. So let me move onto the Marshal. The man that Miss Kitty loved and the man that loved Miss Kitty.

Now, I've already told you about how handsome he was, in an older man sort of way. But there was a great deal more to him than just good looks. To be sure, he was accorded _(I know another big word) _a certain amount of respect simply because of his size and his badge. But he earned more than he ever got given to him. The man was impressive in so many ways.

A complete gentleman who was honest and brave and kindhearted, he hated killing and wasn't too easily riled, and yet he was a man who wouldn't tolerate the mistreatment of others. Especially if Miss Kitty was the one being mistreated.

I heard that a couple of years prior to my coming, some men rode into town and kidnapped Miss Kitty. From what I was told, she was beaten, abused and worse, then brought back to town, dumped on the street in front of the Long Branch and shot. They say the Marshal took his badge off and went after the men responsible with a vengeance. Seeing the way he looked at her, I don't doubt it.

Like I said, he loved Miss Kitty. No doubt about that. He may have been a dedicated lawman but he was also a dedicated man in love.

Now there were others in town that I may mention later on, people like the nosey Mr. Burke, or the tattletale telegrapher Barney but I'll not go into details about them right now. The people you need to know most about, I've already introduced to you.

Now, is when I begin to tell you what led up to Matt Dillon and Kitty Russell being killed.

(Oh, don't look at me like that. It'll be alright. I promise it will. Just hang on and when I come back I'll tell you more.)

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

**To everyone who has reviewed and especially those of you that I can't PM, thank you for your remarks. I appreciate it.**

**(*(*(*(*(*((((****))))*)*)*)*)*)**

I'm back. Now I can tell you some more about what happened. (I know you hate when I do that but I DID tell you I was an old woman. Old women can't sit for long periods of time like you youngsters can.)

Let's see. I believe I had been in Dodge City about two months when it happened.

NO. Not _that._

The incident that eventually led to _that._

Anyway, as I recall, I was working that night. It was rather hot outside, so there were quite a few men inside trying to beat the heat with a cold drink and a cool game of cards or a girl. Yes, I fell into the category. Despite my beliefs, most men didn't think I was that ugly at all. Of course most of the men in there were drunk and they'd think anything warm and breathing was pretty.

Now, now, get that look off of your face. I didn't mean it like that. And stop thinking what you're thinking. I never went upstairs with any man and Miss Kitty never required it, of me or the other girls. That was one of the reasons why so many girls wanted to work for her. She of course didn't have jobs enough for the number of girls wanting to work. So those of us who were fortunate enough to be in her employ felt extremely lucky.

Now, where was I? Oh, yes. That night.

Anyway, like I said, it was hot outside and busy inside. Me, Constance and Sue were running back forth like chickens with their heads cut off. We delivered trays of drinks, a new deck of cards or just patted a friendly soul on the shoulder as we passed. What ever was called for, we did. Well, almost. You know what I mean.

Fred, the other bartender, and Sam were as busy behind the bar as we were in front of it, and Miss Kitty was just about everywhere at once. It seemed everyone needed her for something. She was either needed to settle a dispute over one thing or another, or loan money to some down on his luck cowboy or decide whether some drunk had enough or too much. She even jumped in a few times and helped us deliver trays of drinks or Sam and Fred fill mugs. She seldom rested.

But she did more than just work. One minute she was in the middle of a game of checkers with Doc and the next watching over a hand of poker. She never played though. Sue told me once, confidentially, that Miss Kitty promised the Marshal she wouldn't deal, so she didn't. But Constance told me, just as confidentially, that Miss Kitty was, bar none, better than any gambler in the west when she wanted to be.

Well, it was in the midst of all of this that the beginning, well… began.

I had just carried an empty tray back to the bar and was wearily leaning on the edge of it, waiting for another full tray. My feet were killing me, as was my back and my stomach was grumbling. I was thinking about nothing more than my next break, when I heard a raised voice in the back of the room.

"You cheated me!"

I turned to see a young cowboy stand up from a table back there and point an accusing finger at the well-dressed dude that'd been sitting across from him. "Miss Kitty." The young man with the tan shirt and bandana around his neck looked over at my employer. "You saw him. He was cheating me."

Miss Kitty looked at the boy, because that's surely all he was, and then back at the brown coated dude he'd been playing with. "I saw you, Mister." Miss Kitty sighed. I could tell she really didn't like getting mixed up in stuff like this but she wouldn't let a cheat get by neither. The lady was as honest as they came and she expected honesty from those in her saloon.

"You pulled that last ace from the bottom of the deck and you've got another card right there in your left sleeve." She pointed at the offending coat sleeve.

"Now see here!" The black haired dude actually had the nerve to act offended as he stood from the table and glared at Miss Kitty with eyes as black as his hair. "I am not a cheat, woman."

"You were a minute ago." Miss Kitty returned; her face perfectly composed. She didn't take nothing from men like this and I was always in awe of that. She was fearless. Me? Not so much.

"Kitty?"

I turned and looked at the batwing doors and saw the Marshal coming in. No shots were fired, so he must've just sensed that she might need help. I'd heard several people say that they were like that about each other.

Miss Kitty looked at the Marshal and a small look of relief crossed her face for just a second to be replaced by irritation as she looked back over at the dude. "He was cheating, Matt." She nodded at Mr. Brown Coat and Derby Hat. "I was standing right here when I saw him pull an ace from the bottom of the deck and if you'll look in his left sleeve, you'll find another one."

"How dare you?" The stranger's slightly accented voice grew loud and strident. _(Actually most people were strangers to me, remember I was still fairly new.)_ "I don't have to take this from some saloon trash."

That was one thing that man should not have said. Like a coiled Cobra _(it's a snake, look it up)_ the Marshal struck out instantly, his big fist connecting solidly with the man's glass jaw. Mr. Dark-haired brown coat went down in an instant, the ace of diamonds fluttered out of his left sleeve as he fell.

Marshal Dillon shook his head and then glanced back over at Miss Kitty. He didn't say anything but I knew he was silently asking her if she was okay. An infinitesimal _(yep, yet another big word)_ nod from her reassured him that, yes, she was indeed fine. The Marshal then pointed at the man, still slumbering on the bar room floor. "A couple of you men get him out of here and over to the stage office. He's leaving on the next one out."

As two men stepped forward and began to lift the man up, the Marshal turned to the young cowboy. "Your money on that table?"

"Yes, Sir. At least sixty dollars of it." The boy nodded.

"Then get your money and go home." The Marshal told him sagely. "And next time, watch who you're gambling with."

"Yes, Sir." The boy eagerly grabbed what was his and quickly left the saloon.

The Marshal picked up what was left on the table and halted the two men carrying the gambler. Opening the man's jacket, he stuffed the rest of the money in his pocket and then nodded to the men. "Take him on out boys."

As the gambler was carried away, the Marshal and Miss Kitty walked up to bar for a drink and the rest of us went back to what we were doing, certain the incident was over and done.

Of course, we were wrong.

TBC

**AN:** Grace, you are correct. The Bible was and is a good source for large vocabulary words. Having been taught the Bible from an early age, I know this to be completely true. However, some of the big words Randi uses, aren't necessarily in the Bible. And some of the big words in the Bible, a small town girl might not completely understand. I know that for a fact as well.


	6. Chapter 6

Before I go on, let me say something. I know I have a tendency to backtrack and such, but I often find things I should tell you after I've already told you something else. Just chalk it up to my age. I do. I actually chalk a lot of things up to my age. Easier that way and everybody usually agrees.

I also know, that the way I've described Miss Kitty and the Marshal and the others borders big time on hero worship, but you've got to remember I was a kid when I first met those people. They_** were**_ heroes to me, still are actually. They were my idols and they taught me things I never learned from my Papa. Things like what it felt like to be loved.

It wasn't that Papa didn't love me, see. It was just that he didn't quite know how to show it. He knew how when my mama was alive, but when she died, having my baby sister, and then that baby died too, well… I guess he forgot.

But the Marshal and Miss Kitty and Doc and the rest, didn't forget. And I'll always cherish the love they showed me. So, if I gush a little too much, overlook me. I'm really not all that tall (I think I've shrunk actually) so it shouldn't be that hard to overlook me at all.

Now that that's cleared up. I'll go on.

Now, the next week went by without a hitch with hot days, warm nights and busy saloons. The Marshal managed to stay in town the entire week and several of those nights, long after the saloon closed, I heard the back stairs creak as someone stepped on that third riser from the top. I always wondered why that wasn't fixed but always kinda glad it wasn't.

Oh and if you have no idea what I'm referring to here, then don't look to me to enlighten you. You're too dim to enlighten. But those who are bright enough to get it, you'll understand what I mean when I say that the next morning Miss Kitty was always in really good spirits.

Now, don't misunderstand me. She was a kind and good person. She seldom had a bad word for anyone, even some who deserved it. And she was never rude or hateful or really even grumpy. But she just always seemed to have an extra little spark after those stairs creaked. The Marshal, the next day, didn't look too down in the mouth either, for that matter.

Anyway, I digress. As I was saying, the next week went by with no real problems for anyone and we had all put the gambler and the cowboy incident completely out of our minds.

But later, we were instantly reminded of it when a man came into the saloon. Well, we weren't _instantly_ reminded of it, because when the man first got there, we didn't know who he was. He didn't wear a badge and didn't proclaim himself to be any sort of official of any kind and he didn't look too much different than any other man arriving in town on the stage. And since he didn't say nothing about that incident there didn't seem to be any connection to Mr. Brown Coat.

But that man had an air about him that Miss Kitty and the Marshal and even Sam and Doc seemed to recognize. Now, I'm not the most astute of people. I'm getting better, though I'll never be as good as Marshal Dillon was. But even I noticed something different about the man.

He looked dangerous. _(Not a big word but the only one I can think of that fits.)_ He had a way of looking at people as though he was sizing them up and mentally preparing them for his next meal, which he would eat whole, uncooked and unseasoned, except perhaps with a touch of salt.

He wasn't rude, now mind you and he wasn't vulgar. He didn't intentionally insult anyone or try to bully them, but he could still make you uncomfortable when you got close to him. And it was my job to get close to him a lot. You see, for three days in a row, after he arrived in Dodge, he would bring himself over to the Long Branch, buy a beer or perhaps a bottle, find himself a table and just sit, watching.

He seldom spoke to anyone, save me or one of the other girls and then only to order another drink or perhaps request a deck of cards to play solitaire with. He never played anything else and he would refuse anyone who requested it. Not unkindly, but one look into those dark eyes of his and you knew better to ask again.

Oh, I'm sorry. I guess I didn't really describe him to you too well, did I? I mean, other than to say he was dangerous looking with dark eyes. Well, let me see. He was tall, not as tall as the Marshal but I'd say at least 6 feet 2 or 3. Of course when you're only 5 foot 4, six feet 2 or 3 is tall. He was powerfully built too, like he lifted anvils over his head for fun or something.

He had short black hair with just a touch of curl at the nape of his neck and his eyes were almost black. He looked kind of Italian, with that Roman nose and all. His clothes were excessively clean and expensive looking, much more expensive than anything that could be bought in Dodge City. And I remember his shoes always had a high shine to them, like he was constantly polishing them on the back of his pants legs.

He never smiled but he never snarled either. His expression was almost always neutral. Oh, wait a minute. I said he never smiled. I was wrong. He did smile a couple of times.

His first night in the saloon, he wore a smile the first time he laid eyes on Miss Kitty as she came down the staircase. He also smiled at me once when I delivered his drink and said something witty. Since I don't say witty things too often, you'd think I'd remember what that was, but I don't. Anyway, he smiled hugely then, but the smile disappeared quickly afterwards and he didn't smile any more.

Or at least not when I was around.

I don't know what he did when I wasn't around. He may have bayed at the moon or laughed like one of those strange dogs I heard about once. Hiayne's or something like that. But he didn't do it anytime I saw him. And yes, I saw him quite often. I made a purpose of it. He was dangerous looking, but he was good looking too. A girl who's not on a diet can look at the menu all she wants and order too if she's a mind to. And I wasn't dieting, if you know what I mean.

But anyway, now that you know what he looked like and how he acted, you can kind of understand why he stuck out like a sore thumb. Most everybody noticed him. The Marshal certainly did and he kept a close watch on him, closer than I did. But as the man didn't do anything wrong, the Marshal could do nothing but watch.

But all too soon, the time for watching was to come to an end, as were other things. And the town of Dodge, as well as yours truly, would never really be the same.

(Okay, go ahead and get it out of your system. Groan, complain or what have you, but I'm still taking another break.)

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

Sorry, I had to duck out on you back there but the doctor gave me these pills and… Uh... Oh. You do not need to know anything about that. You're here to hear more about The Incident. So, let's get on with it. Shall we?

Now. About three days after the stranger arrived in town and pretty much settled into the Long Branch at night, some strange things began to happen. At first they didn't seem to be anything other than just accidents, but all too soon, it became clear that they weren't.

The first thing to happen, was the bar fight. It was about eight o'clock at night and things were swinging. There were two trail herds newly arrived and a ton of thirsty, ornery Texas cowboys thronging every saloon in town, laying money down and picking up anything they could get their hands on, including us girls. (Ut uh, don't think it.)

For the most part, it was innocent fun. Those who wanted to make it more serious at the Long Branch soon made the acquaintance of Sam's shotgun or Miss Kitty's temper. (Yes, she had one. A hot one if pushed too far.) If Sam and Miss Kitty couldn't dissuade them then the Marshal or Festus or Newly soon had them in hand.

But when that bar fight broke out, it didn't seem that anyone could corral the men who joined in and began hitting each other with whatever was handy. Tables, chairs, fists, bottles, beer mugs, there wasn't anything safe from being used as a weapon. Miss Kitty and Sam had moved in right at the beginning and tried valiantly to get it stopped but they were ignored. Sam was even punched. So I took off and ran down the street, finally finding the Marshal just coming out of the Bull's Head.

"Marshal!" I yelled. (For a short girl, I have tall lungs) "You'd best come quick. There's a fight broke out."

Marshal Dillon didn't hesitate. He took off at a dead run for the Long Branch, me running along behind him. Festus and Newly came from out of nowhere and ran up just behind Marshal Dillon. But before we could reach the doors, we heard a shot ring out. The Marshal doubled his stride and almost literally threw himself inside.

The fight had stopped, thank heavens, but that didn't mean things were settled. When I got inside, I saw the most horrific sight, I believe, I ever saw in my life. Miss Kitty was sitting on the floor with a stunned look on her face and Constance was laying in her lap, a bright red stain coloring the front of her yellow satin dress.

"Kitty?" I could hear the panic in the Marshal's voice, even if no one else could. "What happened? You okay?"

Numbly, Miss Kitty nodded as she looked down at the woman whose head rested in her lap. "I'm fine." She managed.

Just then Doc pushed in, having also heard the gunfire and quickly made his way over to where Miss Kitty and Constance were. He said nothing as he bent down and gently reached over, examining Constance. He didn't need to say anything though, I knew, from the way he glanced at Miss Kitty and then slightly shook his head at the Marshal, that Constance was dead.

Swallowing the lump in my throat and trying really hard not to cry, I watched as Doc stood and then reached down a hand for Miss Kitty. "Come on, Kitty." He said kindly. "Let me have a look at you."

"I… I'm alright, Doc." She answered softly. The strength seemed to have left her voice. I'd never heard her sounding so sad.

"You let me be the judge of that." Doc told her, still holding his hand out.

As Miss Kitty carefully moved Constance's head to the floor and started to her feet, the Marshal suddenly noticed what Doc had. And right then, I saw an anger on his handsome face, unlike any I have ever seen before. You see, Miss Kitty was hurt too. It wasn't anything life altering. But she did have a tear in the sleeve of her blue satin and sequined dress and her arm was pretty bloody.

"Alright!" Marshal Dillon practically growled. "What happened in here? Who fired that gun?"

Just about everybody in the saloon had a dumbfounded look on their face as they gazed at each other. It was fairly obvious that whoever fired that shot was not about to confess to it, not when they saw the look on the Marshal's face and the blood on Miss Kitty's arm, not mention the dead saloon girl on the floor.

Marshal Dillon stood silently waiting for several seconds, but I could tell; he didn't really expect an answer. Turning, he nodded towards Sam. "Sam, close it up. Newly, Fetus. Get these people out of here. This place is closed for the night. Every one OUT**!** NOW**!**"

As the men began to grab their hats and what was left of their bottles and headed out, Marshal Dillon looked down sadly at Constance and then at Miss Kitty, who was sitting at a table while Doc tended to her arm.

"You alright?" He asked her again. You could hear a whole conversation in those two words, if you listened close enough. And I surely did listen. Sue and I both did and he heard Miss Kitty's unspoken answer as well when she silently nodded.

"Doc?" Marshal Dillon looked at the older physician, the question clearly there.

"She'll be alright, Matt." Doc answered reassuringly. "She was just grazed. I'll have to examine Constance, but by the looks of things, the bullet went straight through her and hit Kitty in the arm."

Miss Kitty finally found her voice and nodded. "Yes." She acknowledged. "I saw Randi run out to find you and I told Constance and Sue to come up near the bar to get out of the way of the fight. Constance was just approaching me when someone fired a shot. It hit her and then I suddenly felt a sting in my arm. I went down with Constance when she fell."

Taking a deep, calming breath, the Marshal looked at Sam and Sue and Fred. He knew I was outside with him when it happened, so he left me out of his questioning gaze. "Any of you see who fired the shot?"

Everyone looked at each other, then shook their heads. "Sorry, Marshal." Sam answered for them. "There was just too much going on."

Pursing his lips, the Marshal nodded, then leaned down and lightly claimed Miss Kitty's good arm. "Come on, Kitty. Let me help you up to your room."

But Miss Kitty shook her head as her eyes traveled across the room to where Constance still lay on the floor. "I… I've got to…"

"You've got to do nothing." Doc spoke up sternly. "Other than let Matt help you upstairs. I'll take care of Constance and Sam and everybody else can take of the saloon. Now go on. Do as I said, Young lady. Go upstairs and rest."

Closing her eyes for a second, Miss Kitty finally nodded and allowed the Marshal to help her to her feet and then up the stairs.

I'd like to report to you that I was composed and stoic and completely helpful in cleaning up the saloon.

I'd like to, but I can't.

Truthfully, I was a mess. You see, I've never seen a dead person before. Not even my own sweet mama when she died. Papa said a sight like that was too traumatic for a young girl so he never let me see her after she died in childbirth with my baby sister. I guess Papa knew what he was talking about. That tore me up and I've never forgotten it.

But I will say this, hard as it was, I did manage to get myself under control and while Doc summoned a couple of people to carry Constance out, me, Sue, Sam and Fred managed to get the saloon cleaned up. Sam himself cleaned the floor where Constance had been lying. Sue and me just couldn't do it.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

Oh, here I am. Sorry, I left off where I did last chapter, but, well, I had to stop for a few minutes. I'm sure you understand, considering the subject matter.

Now, where were we?

Oh, that's right.

Death.

Constance's death to be exact.

It was a hard thing for all of us who worked at the saloon, as well as anyone who patronized the place. Like I told you, when I first mentioned Constance, she was a really nice person and everybody liked her.

Miss Kitty took it hard.

Now, don't get the idea that she just fell apart and moped all over the place and so forth. She didn't. Miss Kitty was made of better stuff than that. But my boss could actually talk with her eyes and her eyes told volumes about how this affected her.

She cared for Constance, as she did all of us, and it really hurt her that Constance died, especially, since she seemed to have the silly notion, (or at least it seemed silly at the time) that Constance had died in her place.

But anyhow, life has a way of going on, despite whatever tragedies befall us and so it did in Dodge and the Long Branch. While the Marshal, Festus and Newly did their best to figure out who had killed Constance, Miss Kitty arranged for a quiet burial of our friend, since she had no other family. No huge fan fare; Constance wasn't the kind to like that kind of thing. But it was a decent and dignified affair.

After the funeral was over, Sue and me returned to the Long Branch and to our rooms. The saloon wasn't busy and Penny, the daytime hostess was there so neither one of us felt a pressing need to return to work right away. And before you ask, yes, Miss Kitty gave us permission.

And in case you're wondering about the stranger, I'll get to him directly. At the time, we were all dealing with the sadness of our loss and we'd plump forgotten about the dangerous Italian looking stranger. He stopped coming to the Long Branch and as with many things, out of sight out of mind. So he went clean out of our minds. For a while.

Then the next thing happened.

That happened about three days after Constance was buried. It had started out rather pleasant actually. The skies were clear and the weather had cooled off and folks were pretty much behaving themselves around town. To be sure, there was still a lingering sadness over the loss of our friend and co-worker, but no one moved into their grief and just stayed there. You can't do that out on the frontier, not if you want to survive.

Anyway, that morning, long before daybreak I heard the back stairs creak. A sure sign that my employer and the law man in town would be in a good frame of mind. I was glad for that. They deserved some good times, to my way of thinking.

And it was while I was thinking along those lines that the next thing happened. Yep, you guessed it right. Shots rang out. Only it wasn't in a bustling, overfilled saloon, it was outside, where it was still dark yet.

Hearing the gunfire, I jumped from my bed, grabbed my blue cotton robe. (You know the one with the little flowers on it... oh, that's right. You never saw it. Well just trust me, It was pretty.) Any I put it on and ran to my door, throwing it open just in time to see Miss Kitty flying down the stairs,her beige lace robe flapping behind her as she rushed outside. Well, of course, I followed her. (I'm like that.)

When I got to the door I peeked outside just in time to see the Marshal standing in the street, gun drawn and firing at a distant figure on a dark horse as he raced out of town.

"Matt?" Miss Kitty called, it was pretty obvious how frightened she was that he might've been hurt.

But he just shook his head and waved her off. "I'm alright, Kitty." He told her. Like most of the men I've known, (Oh, quit it! You know I didn't mean 'known' in the biblical sense.) Anyway, like most men I've known, the Marshal wasn't about to show fear or weakness of any kind in front of the woman he loved. Actually he wouldn't show it in front of anyone, but especially not her.

So he just holstered his gun and stepped over to where Miss Kitty and I stood and gently took her by the arm. "Go on back inside." He said calmly and gently. He almost always talked that way with her, at least, he did around me. Randi," he looked over at me, making my stomach do a somersault. I know he belonged to Miss Kitty, but Lord, that man was good looking. "Randi, can you help Miss Kitty back to her room."

"I am not invalid, Matt Dillon." Miss Kitty's head came up and her eyes practically snapped with blue ice. She hated for people to treat her like she was weak, even the Marshal.

"I know you're not an invalid, Kitty." Matt looked down at her with the softest look I believe I've seen a man give a woman. "But you have no business being out in the street with nothing but a robe on. Besides, it wasn't that long ago, you were hurt and we've still not caught the man that did it, so please, go back inside."

Looking over at my boss, I could tell she didn't want to, but finally she sighed and gave him a small nod. "Alright." Was all she said as she turned and brushed past me on her way in. I made no attempt whatsoever to try and 'help' her. I knew better than that. Miss Kitty did not like being coddled and treated like glass.

I glanced at the Marshal with a small shrug and started to follow Miss Kitty in but he stayed me with a hand on my arm. "I need to talk to you." He said in a whisper. I could tell he didn't want Miss Kitty to hear him.

I ducked my head in the door saw my boss pause on the stairs and look back at me expectantly. "Miss Kitty, I'll be in, in a minute, if it's okay. I kinda want take in the air before people get up and stirring and making it bad."

I'm not sure she believed me, but after a moment she nodded. "Alright," she told me. "But lock the door behind you when you do come in."

"Yes, Ma'am." I answered then stepped back outside, pulling my robe tighter around me and looking up at the Marshal. "Alright, Marshal." I whispered. "What do you need?"

TBC

AN: SusyQ, Mommoo, Guest and Kittylover100, thank you all for your kind remarks. I've been trying to respond to everyone who's left a review but I couldn't PM you guys. I do appreciate you as I do everyone who's been kind enough to read and review.


	9. Chapter 9

Now, before I go any further in this tale, I really have to say something here. I have told you quite a bit about Miss Kitty and the Marshal and I believe my depiction of them is pretty accurate. But one thing I don't think I've really emphasized is how really sweet they both were.

They were!

Really!

I found that out about Miss Kitty from the beginning, not only in the way she treated me, but in the way she treated everyone, regardless of their station in life.

Take Louie for instance. Nice little Louie Pheeters. Most people in town either ignored him or looked down on him. They sure didn't care about his well-being. But Miss Kitty did. Now, before you jump on me, you're right. So did Doc and so did the Marshal and even Festus and Newly and Sam. But I'm not discussing them right now. I'm talking about Miss Kitty.

And that lady, and I DO mean LADY, in every sense of the word, did care about Louie. She knew trying to get him to quit drinking was a losing battle. So she worked with his addiction instead of against it. She'd give him a free drink but only if he'd agree to eat something first. And it was bad out or he seemed to be having more problems than usual, she'd either take him in or make sure he got to Doc's. She took care of him.

Same as she did me, when I first showed up in town and same as she did several other people. Not because she had to. No one forced her to do anything. But simply because she was a sweet natured woman who cared about others.

I think that's one of the reasons her and the Marshal were such a pair. He was sweet too. Of course he didn't show it as easily as she did, but that morning, just before dawn as Miss Kitty walked upstairs and I stood outside the saloon, I found out he just hid it better than she did.

"Randi." He said quietly when I turned to him. "I want you to do me a favor, if you would."

For him? Anything! "Sure, Marshal. What do you need?" I said, trying hard not to look eager.

"I need you to keep an eye on Kitty." He told me. "You being right across the hall from her, is an advantage Sam and I don't have. I just need to know she's alright."

I had to swallow past the lump in my throat before I could answer him simply because it made me want to cry for some reason. That man sure loved her. I could only hope for that kind of love in my life. But finally I found my voice and nodded. "Sure, Marshal. I'd be glad to."

"Thank you." He said with a slight smile. "If you see anything or anyone bothers her, you let Sam or me know. Okay?"

I nodded. It was about all I could do right then.

"Good." He sighed. "Now, you'd better get on in or Kitty'll start worrying about you."

Before I could form a reply, he tipped his hat to me, turned and walked off. Now, didn't I tell you he was sweet? If that's not the sweetest thing, I don't know what is.

Well, anyway, that's how I came to know more about the upcoming incidents than most of the other people in town. And that's why I can tell you with complete and utter sincerity that….

Oh, wait. There I go again, getting ahead of myself. I'll get back to that. But first I have more incidents to tell you about before getting to the main event, as it were.

So let's go to the third thing that happened. Of course, it didn't dawn on us at the time that it was related to Constance's death and the Marshal being shot at, but later on we knew it was.

See, that young cowboy, that had accused Mr. Brown Coat of cheating, was found dead the next day. Mr. Burke said he was found hanging outside of town with his tongue cut out.

Of course, that was a lot more detail than I actually wanted to hear but Nathan Burke didn't seem to care much what others wanted when he got to talking. Doc actually had to tell him to shut up and go sit down somewhere when he saw the look on my and Miss Kitty's face.

"Thanks, Doc." Miss Kitty said as she hadn't liked it too much either. Tell you what, that kind of talk can take the starch right out of ya.

Of course, that wasn't all that happened. There were a bunch of other things, things that only later seemed like they might be related. Like the runaway pair of driverless horses racing straight at Miss Kitty as she walked across the street to the café. If it weren't for Festus, grabbing her by the waist and hauling her backwards at the last moment, she'd a been flattened.

Someone found the team just outside of town breathing heavy and about wore out. I heard tell that their traces had been cut and there were marks on their flanks where somebody had hit them awful hard to get em going like they did.

And then the next day the Marshal got shot at again while out on the prairie, but again, they missed. And while he was out on the prairie, Miss Kitty was quietly putting a bullet into a rattlesnake that somehow found its way into her office. Like I said, there were a bunch of odd things like that.

But that wasn't all.

The next thing to happen was the jail catching on fire. The Marshal had just left the little brick building not ten minutes before to go and do his rounds when someone yelled fire.

Of course, in a town composed mainly of wooden buildings in a dry year, that kind of yell will draw a lot of attention. And it did. In no time flat, people were pouring out of everywhere, frantically running back and forth carrying one bucket of water after another or batting at the flames with a wet blanket or coat until finally they had it out.

It was a sight, I tell ya. But fortunately, it was out and no one got hurt and no other buildings got damaged. For that, everyone was grateful. Of course, no one knew at the time that the jail house catching on fire was just a diversionary (and yet another big word) tactic.

You see, while everyone's attention, including that of the Marshal, was focused on putting out the fire, there was a man at the other end of town who was setting up on the roof of the building across the street from the Long Branch. He had been very careful to make sure that no one saw him as he climbed up there and moved to just the perfect spot so he could see right into Miss Kitty's room.

When all the rookus (Festus' word, not mine.) was over, Miss Kitty returned to her room and the man who was now waiting for her.

But no matter how careful you are, there's always a chance of failure. And fortunately for Miss Kitty, as well as myself, this man failed.

You see, being true to my word, I was keeping an eye on my employer and making sure no one, we didn't know, came near her. That included following her up to her room. Of course, I didn't tell her the truth of why I followed her. I just said I needed to borrow a pair of gloves. I didn't say what for because I had no idea myself and thank God, she didn't ask.

But anyway, as we entered her room and she lit the lamp beside the window, I just happened to look out and see a flash of something on the roof across the way. Don't ask me why it alarmed me or what I thought it was, I don't know. But something inside of me just knew Miss Kitty and me, both, were in danger right then.

"Miss Kitty, get down." I yelled as I ducked and pulled her down with me. I'm sure she was about to ask me what my problem was but she didn't need to, when suddenly the window exploded inward and several bullets flew just inches above our heads. Neither one of us was shot, but both of us were scared, I can promise you that.

"I'm not sure what I expected when the bullets stopped coming in, but it wasn't what happened, that's for sure.

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

"Are you alright?" Miss Kitty quietly called to me when it was quiet again and we could catch our breath.

I nodded then realized she probably couldn't see me as the incoming lead had pretty much destroyed the lamp. It was a wonder it hadn't caught anything on fire. "I'm fine." I answered in as strong a voice as I could muster. I didn't want to tell her that I caught a piece of flying glass in my arm. No need to worry her right then. Besides, it hurt too bad to say much.

"Good." Miss Kitty said in her best Marshal Dillon voice. "Stay put."

Not sure what else to do, I stayed put. As my eyes became accustomed to the dim light in the room, I saw Miss Kitty crawl over to her dresser, open the top drawer and pull out a gun and head over to the window.

Now, maybe that doesn't sound so astonishing to you but it was to me. Remember, I was raised on a farm. Shooting varmints of any kind was left to the men folk. Women in Bug Tussell usually won't even touch guns, much less shoot them.

But Miss Kitty didn't seem to care much about things like that as she moved near the window and cautiously peered out. I'm not sure how well she could see, but she quickly raised her gun and actually took a couple of shots across the street.

"Did you hit anything?" I just had to ask.

Grimly, she nodded. "I did." She answered. That was another thing, I didn't expect. She took no pleasure in hitting what she'd aimed at. She didn't seem pleased at all. I don't know about you, but I would've been at least a little proud of my aim. But she wasn't. She wasn't proud at all. She just seemed saddened by it.

Well, while I was puzzling that out, I suddenly heard running footsteps in the hall outside the bedroom and the Marshal's voice on the other side of the door. "Kitty?" His voice took on that slight panicked note again. It always did, when he thought Miss Kitty was in trouble of some kind.

Miss Kitty said nothing as she got to her feet and carefully made her way over to the door, unlocking it and letting the Marshal in. "He's on the roof across the street." She told the Marshal before he could even ask. "I'm fine, but I think Randi's hurt." She nodded over at me as she stepped over to her dresser and lit a lamp.

How she knew I was hurt, I'll never know. I swear, I didn't tell her. I didn't say too much at all, not even when that piece of glass impaled me. I was too unsettled by everything that had happened to say anything. Of course there was also the fact that right about then, I began to feel a little woozy and before I could even think of something to say, I passed out.

(Don't ask me how long I was out. I have no idea. I do know you can't tell time when your unconscious.)

I woke up lying on a really soft surface and my head was buzzing. When I finally managed to pry my eyes open and look around, I found I was in bed in my room. Looking down, I could see my left arm was tightly bandaged and a hand was holding mine. It was Miss Kitty.

"Well, good to see you awake." She smiled brightly at me. "How are you feeling?"

Before I answered that I thought about it for a second or two. "Well, I'm a little fuzzy feeling." I admitted. "What happened after…?"

"You saved my life?" Miss Kitty smiled. "You fainted. You had a pretty deep cut and Doc had to stitch up your arm so he did it while you were out."

I tried to remember all that but for the life of me I couldn't. I mean the part AFTER I saved her life. That part I remembered. "How'd I get in here?" I asked curiously. "Last I remember I was in your room."

"Marshal Dillon carried you over here." She told me. "He was kinda worried about you. But then again so was I."

To say I was shocked and awed and absolutely flummoxed is an understatement.

Dang! I wish I could remember that.

Imagine. Me, short, plain little me being carried by Matt Dillon. And he, as well as my boss, was worried about me! If I wasn't already lightheaded, that'd sure do it for me. "Wow." Was the only words I could actually manage before I remembered the reason for all of this.

"The man that shot at us?" I swallowed hard. My throat seemed awful dry. "Is he…"

"He's over at Doc's. He's hurt, but he'll live." She let of my hand but patted my arm. I saw a relieved smile cross her face and it was then I realized, despite what that man had done, she really hadn't wanted to kill him.

"Good." I relaxed a little at that. I didn't much like the idea of anyone dying either, even if he did shoot at us. Then I thought about that. "Did he say why he shot at us?" I asked hoping for some simple explanation; such as he was just up there star gazing and his gun went off by accident or something.

Instead, Miss Kitty just shrugged at me. "The Marshal's talking to him." She answered. I couldn't tell by her expression whether she knew more or not. No wonder she was good at cards.

I wanted to ask more questions but there was suddenly a knock at the door and Miss Kitty got up to answer it. It was the Marshal.

"Uh, Kitty. Can I talk to you?" He asked.

Miss Kitty snuck a look back at me. "Randi. I'll be back in a few minutes."

I nodded but I wanted to climb out of that bed and go with her. You see, I'm kind of a curious type of person. No, not curious as in odd, (Of course there's some who think that of me too.) But curious as in, well, not nosey exactly but along those lines, just not as bad as being nosey sounds.

Okay, I'm nosey.

Anyway, when Miss Kitty walked out, I wanted to go with her. I wanted to know what was going on.

I wanted to know who that man was that shot at us and why he did it. And I wanted to know if what he did, had anything to do with the Marshal getting shot at. I wanted to know a lot of things. But instead, I stayed there in my bed like a good girl and pouted. Lord, I hated being left out of things.

Of course, little did I know that it wouldn't be long, and I'd be smack dab in the middle of those same things.

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

After Miss Kitty left my room, I didn't see her again until the next morning. When she returned, she had Doc in tow. (Well, I guess he had her in tow since he came in first.)

"Randi, how are you feeling this morning?" Doc smiled at me and the world brightened a little. I really liked Doc. He made me feel safe in a way and he reminded me of my papa. Or at least he reminded me of how my papa used to be, before… Well, anyway. I liked Doc.

"I'm alright." I smiled back at him realizing I really was alright or would be. I mean, I wasn't dead so it couldn't be all that bad. Right?

Doc patted my hand with a smile. He had a really nice smile. "Well, good." He said as he picked up my injured arm and began to un-wrap the bandage. "I'm just going to check your arm out here and make sure it's alright."

I noticed that since she'd come into the room, Miss Kitty hadn't said anything, although she had that look that people wear when they want to say something, or at least think they should say something, but aren't quite sure where to start.

I should probably tell you all now; I don't have a whole lot of patience. I wasn't sure if she would say anything anytime soon, so I jumped the gun and asked her.

"Is something wrong, Miss Kitty?" I swear I saw something flit across her face at the question but just like pulling a shade down, that something was gone and I saw nothing more. Like I said, no wonder the woman was so good at cards.

"Uh, no, Randi." She smiled graciously at me. "Uh, I…"

Just then there was a knock at the door, interrupting her.

That happens a lot you know. You think you're gonna hear something important or someone's gonna tell you their innermost thoughts or you're finally gonna get kissed and someone else has to knock on the door or holler at you and interrupt it all.

I saw that happen to Miss Kitty and the Marshal more'n once. They'd no sooner sit down to talk or eat or something and someone just had to rush in and interrupt them. It was maddening, I tell ya.

Well, I thought it was anyway.

Only in this case, it wasn't so maddening, it was actually a little alarming.

You see, when Miss Kitty opened the door, the Marshal was there.

Oh, get over it. I wasn't alarmed because the Marshal was there in my room. That was actually pretty good. I mean... uh hem.

Sorry.

No, it wasn't the Marshal that alarmed me. It was the man that followed him in. You see, the tall stranger that came in with Marshal Dillon was the dark haired Italian looking man who'd spent three days lingering around the Long Branch and giving everybody the willies. I didn't say anything when they entered because I wasn't sure why they were there and what I should say. "Uh, Hi, Mr. Dangerous? Why don't ya come up and see me sometime?" Nope. Wasn't about to say that.

I mean, come on. What would you do or say if a US Marshal and a dangerous looking gentleman walked into your room the morning after you were shot at in your boss's room?

Of course, I've never heard of anyone else who was shot at while they were in their boss's room so who knows. And technically, it wasn't _me_ they were shooting at since it wasn't _my_ room we were in, but you get the idea.

It was rather alarming.

But that was just the beginning of the alarms. That was just a tiny little bell compared to the giant gongs that were about to go off.

Well, to me they were gongs. You all might think otherwise. We'll see.

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

Sorry to leave you hanging at the edge of that cliff back there, but I had to get some water. Phew, all this story telling can be a bit parching. I won't promise not to do that again, though, because I don't like to make promises I won't or can't keep. But I will try to curtail it some. Of course, how much 'some' is, can be kinda subjective. (Yep, another big word.)

Anyhoo, back to what I was telling you.

There I was, in my nightgown, in my bed when two of the tallest, best looking and most dangerous men in all of Dodge came in just as polite as they could be. I was stunned to say the least. But, looking over at Miss Kitty, I could tell she wasn't stunned. She actually looked like she'd been expecting them.

"Matt," she gave him a slight nod as she held the door open for him and the other man to enter. She didn't kiss him or hug him or nothing, just held the door while the two men walked in.

That is one thing that always kinda mystified me. Those two never touched. Or seldom did, anyway. They talked and they had meals together and drinks together but they didn't touch too often. Of course, that has nothing to do with this story; other then I just considered it to be kind of odd in a way. But we all have our own way of communicating with the ones we love and they found theirs and it worked for them. That's all that really matters, I guess.

So, anyway, back to my bedroom and the two men who walked into it. Marshal Dillon and the oh so good looking, dangerous looking man whose name I still didn't know.

"Hello, Randi." Marshal Dillon nodded to me as he took his hat off, as did the other man.

'Well, he's got manners, at least.' I thought. Then, of course, another thought ran through my bleary head and I had to look away quickly before anyone could see me blush yet again.

"Have you told her?" Marshal Dillon fortunately interrupted my thoughts.

"Not yet." Miss Kitty answered him. "Me and Doc just now came in."

Now, call me paranoid if you want to, but I was pretty sure that the Marshal and Miss Kitty were talking about me, in front of me, and that unsettled me a little. Told me what?

It didn't take long for me to find out.

You see, the Marshal and Miss Kitty were planning to die and they wanted me to help them do it.

Wait a minute, wait a minute. Before you get all het up and excited, let me finish telling you everything. As with any good tale, (and I did tell you that's what this is), there's always more to it than just what's on the surface.

Now, after everyone took a seat around my small room and Doc had finished with my arm, the Marshal took us all in with his blue eyed gaze, settling for the longest time on Miss Kitty's beautiful but worried features. When she finally relaxed, he did as well and then turned back to me.

"Randi, what I'm about to tell you is extremely confidential and you can't repeat a word of it to anyone. As a matter of fact, I wouldn't even be telling you," he paused and took a deep breath and I could tell this wasn't easy for him. Didn't look to be easy on anyone. I kept quiet and just listened. Which is not something I'm good at but I figured it better that way.

"I wouldn't be telling you any of this, if you weren't already sort of involved and I didn't need your help." He finished.

"You can tell me anything, Marshal." I told him in all sincerity. "I won't tell anyone else."

(Now before you jump on me for breaking my promise, remember I said this was only a tale. I didn't say it was the truth. And besides, I'm an old woman now and all of the parties involved in this are passed on, so calm down and let me finish.)

"I appreciate that, Randi." He smiled briefly. All too briefly for my tastes. He was even prettier when he smiled. "And I believe we can trust you."

"We?" I looked pointedly over at the stranger who was casually leaning against my bedroom wall.

The Marshal glanced in his direction and then looked back at me. "I guess, I should introduce you." He said a little self-consciously. "Randi, this is Mark Haynes. Mark this is Randi Larkin."

'Haynes?' I thought as we exchanged polite greetings. Hunh. I could've sworn he was Italian. Didn't change the fact that he was still good and dangerous looking though.

"I've seen you downstairs several times." I mentioned as I looked into those beautiful brown eyes.

"Uh, yes, Ma'am." He nodded. "I remember you. At the time I wasn't at liberty to talk with anyone or I might've bought you a drink."

Yep, you guessed it. I had to drop my head again for a second to cover the reddness. Now don't misunderstand. It wasn't that I'd never had compliments before. I have. But most of them were from drunks who'd a complimented the tail end of their horse if it moved just right. But this man was sincere and he wasn't drunk. That's a whole nother kettle of fish.

"Uhm, Randi." Miss Kitty directed my attention to her. Guess she saw my blush. "Mr. Haynes is a detective for the Pinkerton detective agency."

"Pinkerton?" That name didn't sound too familiar to me but then I've only really been two places, a farm and a saloon. Neither place has much call for a detective agency, usually.

"Uh, yes, Ma'am." Mark smiled kindly at me. "I've been tracking a fellow and the trail led me here."

"Tracking?" I questioned. "Like Festus does?"

Mark smiled revealing dimples and my heart did a little pitter pat. His good looks were winning out over the dangerous ones.

"Well, no, not exactly." He answered. "Mainly just following him, seeing what he does, who he talks to, where he goes. The man I followed here was in the saloon a while back."

"He was?" I was now getting really curious about more than Mark's dimples and whether he had them other places besides his face.

"Yes." The Marshal jumped in. "And he brought us some trouble."

"Us?" I know I was repeating words a lot and my questions were awful short one or two word questions. But my brain was still a little foggy and I had two good looking men in the room with me, not mention a lady I revered and a doctor I felt closer to then my own papa in some ways.

"Us." The Marshal confirmed for me.

(I'm gonna stop right here for a few minutes and go take my medicine. Old folks, like me, have to take pills and such ever so often. Hang on, and I'll be back.)

TBC

**AN: **_Pinkerton traces its roots to 1850 when Allan Pinkerton founded Pinkerton's National Detective Agency. Pinkerton's agents performed services ranging from security guarding to private military contracting work. Pinkerton was the largest private law enforcement organization in the world at the height of its power. By the early 1890s, the Pinkerton National Detective Agency employed more agents than there were members of the standing army of the United States of America._


	13. Chapter 13

Okay, I'm back. Sorry it took me so long. I had to remember where I put the pills first, and then I had to figure out why I was taking them. Then I liked to choked when I forgot to drink some water with him. Getting old is not for the weak of heart, let me tell you.

And telling you, is exactly what I intend to do. Telling you the rest of what was told to me, I should say.

"Randi."

The Marshal glanced at Miss Kitty before continuing. He did that a lot. I think he got a sort of strength from her that he got nowhere else.

"Do you remember a couple of weeks back, there was a young cowboy in the saloon, had a tan shirt on and he accused a dude with a brown coat of cheating him?"

I remembered. "Miss Kitty saw the man cheating too and you kicked him out of town. I heard the young cowboy died."

"Yeah." The Marshal nodded. "He did. Well, anyway, that man that was cheating was a little bit more than just a dude. He was part of a family from New Orleans."

"Family?" I could feel my forehead scrunching up, (not a pretty sight on me) but I couldn't help it. I still had no idea what all of this was about.

"Yes." Mark stepped in. "There is a family in New Orleans by the name of Matranga. They're fairly new down there but they're already into all sorts of illegal activities. The man, that was here, is associated with them. I think he's looking for places to expand their business so to speak. That's why I was following him. I was hoping to discover where they plan on setting up shop next and until Marshal Dillon here threw him out of town, I was pretty sure it was going to be Dodge."

I am not the most astute of people, but let me tell you this. I not only understood what Mark was telling me but I got a little scared by it as well.

Then not-astute me thought of something. Mark didn't show up until after that man left. "If you were following this man," I asked suspiciously. "Then why didn't we see you until after he was gone?"

"I didn't want you to." He answered simply. "I didn't want anyone to see me. After the Marshal made him leave, it was safe for me to show my face."

I looked at the still grim faces around me and realized there was more.

Marshal Dillon took it back up. "I threw that man out, that's true. But according to Mark here, he sent someone back to avenge him. That man over in the jail, as well as a couple of others, was sent here by him to do just that."

"Avenge him?" Then I remembered poor Constance and the Marshal being shot at and the fire at the jail and the shots from the night before and all the other things. I'm pretty sure I visibly paled right then. "You mean he is trying to get even with you for throwing him out?"

Marshal Dillon nodded silently.

"Then why shoot at Miss Kitty? Or kill Constance?" I demanded to know. I was getting my hackles up then and I could tell my voice was rising in volume but I didn't care.

"And why are you still here, if you're supposed to be following that man? Why not stay with him and stop him?" I glared (or at least my best imitation of a glare) at Mark.

Doc, who'd been sitting quietly in a chair beside me up till now, reached over and patted my hand in a comforting manner and I realized I was getting a little out of hand. Doc was like the Marshal and Miss Kitty, he could tell you things without saying much. 'I'm sorry." I ducked my head.

"Don't be." Miss Kitty came around to my side and sat beside me on the bed. "Those are valid questions and you have a right to know. That's part of the reason we're here."

"Randi."

Mark called me by my first name for the first time and I almost forgot how irritated I had been at him a moment ago.

"Your friend Constance wasn't the target that night. Miss Russell was. She's the one that proved that man, whose name, by the way, is Costos Matranga, was cheating and it was she he was calling names when the Marshal punched him. As for me staying here, I had to. I think Matranga caught sight of me in the last town we were in and I know he saw me here. I couldn't take any chances. So, I sent a wire to my home office and requested they attach someone else to follow Matranga."

'Okay.' I thought. 'That makes sense.' But something else he did, didn't make sense. "But why didn't you talk to anyone those three days when you did show your face in the saloon?" I wanted to know. "And where did you go after that?"

Mark smiled and I almost didn't care if answered my questions or not. He had a great smile.

"After Matranga left, and I sent that wire, I had to stay here to wait for my next orders. But I was also a little worried that Matranga might try and sneak back in town to get revenge or maybe hire someone to do it. I didn't say anything though, because I didn't want to tip my hand to anyone, until I had to, as to what I was doing."

That made sense too.

"The night your friend was killed, I saw the man that did it. I don't know the people around here, but I could tell he didn't belong, so when he left, I followed him to see if he was connected in some way to the Matranga's."

"Was he?" Doc asked which surprised me a little. I thought I was the only one in complete dark.

Mark nodded gravely. "Yes, sir. He was. He rode straight out of here and kept going until he reached a place called Spearville. When he arrived, he went into the saloon there and met with two men. They spoke softly and they spoke in Italian but as they sat near a broken window and I speak Italian, I had no problem understanding what they said."

"You speak Italian?" I asked amazed.

He grinned slightly. "Yes, I do. My mother was Italian." (Ahh, that explained his looks.)

"What did those men say?" Doc redirected the conversation.

"They were talking about Costos Matranga. He's apparently a cousin of Charlie Matranga's, head of the family. He's a very close cousin and as soon as he got to the next town from here, he ordered the deaths of both the Marshal and Miss Russell. The man that shot your friend was aiming for Miss Russell and your friend got in the way."

He said that last part softly and sadly and if I hadn't already been warming up to him; that would've done it for sure.

"Anyway," he continued after swallowing really hard. "When I found out what their plans were, I hurried back here to warn the Marshal and help him if I could."

I noticed that Miss Kitty and the Marshal, for the most part had been pretty quiet up to now so I looked over at them and I could tell that when they did speak, it wasn't going to be something I wanted to hear.

(I'll tell you about that in the next chapter.)

TBC

Author's Notes: The **New Orleans crime family** is one of the oldest American criminal organizations in activity. It is based in New Orleans and parts of southern Louisiana in the United States. The Matranga crime family, established by Charles (1857-28 October 1943) and Antonio Matranga ( Tony) (d. 1890 ?), was one of the earliest recorded crime families, operating in New Orleans during the late 19th century until the beginning of Prohibition in 1920. Born in Sicily, Carlo and Antonio Matranga settled in New Orleans during the 1870s where they eventually opened a saloon and brothel.


	14. Chapter 14

(Okay, it's the next chapter.)

Anyway, as I was saying, the Marshal and Miss Kitty had kept pretty quiet while Mark explained why he was there and who that man was and what he'd ordered done. That worried me quite a bit.

"Marshal?" I watched him closely. "What happens now? And what do you all want me to do?"

Please don't think that I wasn't willing to help them. I was. But keep my size and origins in mind. I wasn't sure what short little former farm girl _could_ do to help them.

Once again, the Marshal and Miss Kitty exchanged glances and Miss Kitty answered. "Matt and I are going to die." She said with a matter of fact tone. "We need you, Doc and Mr. Haynes here, as well as a few others, to help us do that."

If you had of walked up to me and slapped me with syrup I don't think I could've been any more surprised. But I was sickened as well. I didn't want them to die.

Not these two.

Never these two.

And I sure as heck didn't want to help kill them.

"Sur…" I licked my lips and tried again. "Surely, there's some other way." I was begging them to find another way. I may have only known them for a couple of months or so, but I really cared a lot about these two people.

"I'm sorry, Randi." The Marshal shook his head sadly. "But there just isn't any other way."

"But…" I hate to cry. I absolutely hate to cry. But right at that moment, I could feel the tears stinging the corners of my eyes and I wasn't sure I could stop them. "I don't want you to die." I managed before the first tear drop fell. _(Hmmm. You know that might make a good song title.)_

Miss Kitty, hearing the distress in my voice reached over and hugged me, suddenly understanding what I was thinking. "Oh, honey, don't cry. We're not talking about dying for real. But we do want to give that impression."

"You see, Randi." Mark spoke up. "These men, who are after the Marshal and Miss Kitty, won't quit. Once they decide someone has to die, they don't stop until that person is dead. The only way to keep the Marshal and Miss Russell here alive is to make everyone think they are dead."

"But how?" I had no idea how that stunt could be pulled off. You see, to me, you were either dead or you weren't. You couldn't be both.

But apparently the way they had it figured, you could. However, like Miss Kitty said, it was going to take several people to pull it off.

Now, right here, I could tell you verbatim (_big word, look it up_) what they told me but I'm going to tell you what happened anyway so there's really no reason to repeat myself. Instead, I'll just let you know that after they explained everything to me, I agreed. Besides, I wasn't the one going to die and I wasn't being asked to do too much.

Still, I really didn't want to agree, mind you. But after Mark told me more about these people from New Orleans and how dangerous and (to me, at least) crazy they were, I had no choice. The Marshal and Miss Kitty living somewhere else with different names was a lot better than them actually dying here.

"I'll do it." I finally told them.

"Thank you." Miss Kitty said as she gave me another hug.

"We appreciate this." The Marshal told me.

Doc didn't say too much of anything. I think he was feeling the same thing I was, only more so, because he'd known them longer. Doc really cared about those two people and the whole thing must've been killing him.

Mark didn't say much either. A long time later, he told me that he felt a little odd in my room that day because he wasn't really one of their friends and yet he was helping them to plan their deaths. I guess, I would've felt the same way.

Anyway, after everything was decided it was simply a matter of getting everyone else on board, like Festus and Newly and Louie and Sam and Percy Crump, (took a lot of people to kill those two) and then getting things set up for the big day.

I don't think any one of us, ANY one of us, wanted to do this though. And you have to admit, the story Mark told was kind of far-fetched. I mean, a man ordering the deaths of two people just because he was embarrassed by them? And not only that, but the idea of other men, many other men, willing to carry out such an order for someone they might not even know, just because he said so.

Doc sure was skeptical. I can tell you. He went so far as to send a telegraph to a friend of his named Chapman down in New Orleans asking him about these people. The only reply he got was two words. "Don't ask."

Marshal Dillon also did some checking, I found out later, and although I don't know what he found out (he probably told Miss Kitty, though) I know it was enough to convince him that this desperate plan we'd settled on, was the only plan that would work and the only way for them to stay alive.

TBC

.


	15. Chapter 15

Eight days went by, after that little meeting in my room, and to say it was a strange time would be putting it mildly. I felt like I'd been sent far, couldn't go and wasn't needed after I got there. I was nervous and scared and worried and I wasn't the one that was going to die. Needless to say, I was a mess.

Of course, (Now, I know this is going to sound selfish but I can't help it. I'm trying to be honest here.), I think one of the things that worried me most, was what would happen to me afterwards.

Miss Kitty said she'd made arrangements with a friend of hers to take over the Long Branch and that none of us working for her would lose our jobs. But still, it would be different. Miss Kitty was my first and only employer. I wasn't sure what I would've done if she hadn't hired me, when I came to town, and I wasn't sure what I would do when she left.

I surely didn't want to go home. Now that I'd had a taste of being out from under my papa's thumb, I had no desire to go back under it. However, I didn't know this Hannah, who was taking over. She could've been a Two Ton Tessy with snakes for hair for all I knew.

But, I had promised my help to my idol and my mentor and I was going to keep my word, no matter how it affected me. I owed that much to Miss Kitty and the Marshal. They were my friends and you do what you can, when you can, for your friends. You may not agree with them and you may have a different opinion about something, but that doesn't change how you feel about them, or at least it shouldn't, if you're really a friend. And it didn't for me.

Anyway, the day was fast approaching and I was not looking forward to it. Neither was anyone else who was in on the plans. But none of us said anything, not even in private. It was as if we thought that by saying nothing, nothing would happen, although we knew better.

Miss Kitty spent a great deal of time during those eight days, doing inventory and making sure all the books were in order. She also worked hard on her rooms upstairs. She had 20 years of living in those rooms and she had eight days to whittle it all down into just a couple of bags. Not an easy thing to do.

I'm not sure, exactly, what-all the Marshal did. I know he had a lot less in the way of packing to do but I suspect, like Miss Kitty, he spent a considerable amount of time on his job. Making sure reports were filled out and filed and such. I don't know if he decided who replaced him or not, but it didn't matter, because nobody could actually ever replace him.

Nobody.

As for everybody else? We just went about our everyday lives as though nothing was going on and two people, we cared deeply about, weren't about to disappear in a few days. Mark came by the saloon every day and most nights and more often than not, he spent his time with me.

Although, I had seen my fellow accomplices just about every day before this all started happening, it seemed liked I was seeing them differently after this plan was set. We were no longer just fellow citizens in the town of Dodge, we were fellow conspirators, planning not one, but two assassinations. It was a strange relationship to say the least.

But during those too brief days, I got to really know those people in a way I might not have otherwise. While before, I thought of Festus as funny in a way, Newly as studious, Sam as stalwart, Doc as wise, Louie as loveable and Mr. Crump as odd, I saw other sides to them as well. I saw the strength that each man had and the kindness and courage and real true genuine love each of them had for not only Miss Kitty and the Marshal but for each other as well.

If I was to experience any good to come from all of this, aside from the saving of two very precious lives, it was that. I got to see the very finest examples of humanity in those individuals and it changed the way I looked at others. I was no longer willing to accept mediocre people in my life, when I'd met the best.

Now, I have to pause right here and say something about Mark Haynes. He…. Well…. He… he... Okay, maybe I don't have to say something about Mark right now.

Miss Hannah, who actually wasn't all that bad a person after all, (no snakes in her hair, though I won't say a thing about her weight) had arrived two days before the big event and Miss Kitty had already given her the grand tour, so to speak, of the Long Branch and introduced her to everyone as her new partner. Only me and Sam knew she'd sold out completely to Hannah.

Anyway, eight days went by fairly quick and it was the night before everything was to happen. Miss Kitty had managed to get her most precious belongings into three bags. Me and Sam secretly carried them out, late the night before and gave them to Festus who tossed them into the back of Doc's buggy, that he'd borrowed, and hauled them away. I think he had the Marshal's one bag as well in there.

When he left, we went back into the saloon and began closing up for the night. Miss Kitty had already retired for the evening to spend one last night in her rooms before leaving them, and us, behind forever. I heard that third stair creak later that night though, so I know that at least she wasn't alone.

After all the chores were done, and Festus had returned, me and the rest of my co-conspirators gathered in the empty barroom, raised a glass of whiskey each and drank to the people who were soon to disappear from Dodge and our lives forever.

None of us felt like making speeches and we doubted Miss Kitty or the Marshal would want us to, had we tried. Mark, who'd slipped in next me as we quietly stood and ruminated, _(another big word),_ on the events to come, reached down and took my hand, silently communicating to me, in a way that I thought only the Marshal and Kitty knew how to do, that he understood my sadness and worry.

I can't begin to tell you how good it felt to have that connection to someone. It was unlike any other feeling I'd ever had. I was still sad, and still worried, but I no longer felt alone in that. And I no longer felt like a thin twig in a strong wind, bending every which way because I had no real support. If you've ever felt that way, believe me, it's a blessing when you don't feel that way any longer.

After we stood around the bar, we looked around at each other. We had a strange bond between us, one not often shared. Tomorrow we were going to help kill off two people and assist them to be reborn in another place with new names and new lives. It was a major undertaking and we didn't take it lightly. We loved Matt Dillon and Kitty Russell in our own ways and we wanted nothing but the best for them. We just hoped this was it.

When we raised our glasses, in unison, to take that last swallow of whiskey, Louie gave the best and perhaps the only toast fitting for the occasion.

"To Friends!" He said and we all agreed.

TBC

**AN:** SusyQ, thank you! I'm glad I redeemed myself.


	16. Chapter 16

Now, before I say any more, I need to say a few things about friends. You know; those people you're close to but usually aren't related to. That's right. Friends.

In my lifetime I have learned some things about friends and most of what I learned started that long ago morning before Matt Dillon and Kitty Russell died.

First thing I learned was that friends, real friends, don't turn their backs on you. They may not agree with you on something, they may question your judgment, but they don't turn away from you. They stick it out with you no matter what. That's what me and the others were doing for the Marshal and Miss Kitty. Sticking it out with them.

The second thing I learned was that friends don't judge you and they don't try to fix you or tell you that you're wrong simply because you don't see things the way they do. A real true friend is always willing to listen to your side of things without declaring you evil incarnate because your opinion is different than theirs.

A couple of our members, even that late in the game, still disagreed with the plan that was devised and they stated so, loudly. But no one scolded them for their differing view. They were listened to and their viewpoint was considered but it didn't change the plan and in the end, they were still our friends.

The third thing I learned was that having many friends isn't as important as having quality friends. The people I was working with on this were quality. I knew I could depend on them as they could me. And I knew they'd never hurt or turn from me, nor I them. And I knew that none of us would do that to Miss Kitty and the Marshal.

Another thing I learned is that a friend will always be there for you when you need them. They may not contact you on a daily basis, but they're there. They'll help you if they can or simply listen when they can't. But they won't harm you. They won't talk behind your back or trade you in for new friends. No one, could ever replace Miss Kitty and the Marshal in our hearts and we were determined to be there for them.

My mama used to say that most people, we come into contact with, are put into our lives for a reason and a season. The season varies from person to person but there are only three reasons. They need you, you need them or you need each other. Friends though, stick around whether there's a need or not.

I found these things to be true that morning, so many years ago, when this all happened.

What all happened, you ask? Well, sit back and I'll tell you the rest of it.

Early the morning of the incident, I got up and got dressed and made my way down stairs. I couldn't sleep the night before and staying in bed was senseless, so I got up and went down to see if I could help Sam open up or something.

He was fine but he asked if I'd go and get some Danish from the café for Miss Kitty when she got up. I suspected she was probably already awake, but I did as he asked and made my way down to Delmonico's. I passed Mark on the way but didn't stop and he didn't try to stop me. There'd be time for us two to talk later.

When I got into the restaurant, I saw Doc and Marshal Dillon and Festus at a back table with plates in front of them. But none of them were eating much. Mostly they were just pushing food around on their plates and occasionally glancing at each other. I understood. This was not going to be an easy day, for anyone.

On the way back to the saloon, I saw Newly opening up his gunsmith shop. Festus told me secretly that Marshal Dillon had asked Newly if he'd like to be the Marshal after this was all said and done. But Festus said Newly turned it down. He didn't want to be Marshal. He didn't want to maybe one day have to do something like we were planning. I didn't blame him for that.

I nodded at Percy Crump as he opened up his funeral parlor and furniture making shop. He wore the same expression that morning as he wore every other day of his life and anyone looking at him, would never know that he knew, this wasn't like any other day of his life. It wasn't going to be like any other day of any of our lives.

When I got back to the Long Branch, I found Louie already there and going in just ahead of me. His part in this scheme wasn't going to be huge, but it was making him nervous nevertheless. He needed a shot of whiskey and Sam didn't refuse him.

That morning of the incident every one of us involved in this thing, went about our lives as though nothing was happening or about to happen. We smiled at those we passed and did our morning chores and drank our coffee and never let on that things were about to change drastically for us as well as Dodge City.

We had to, you see. We were friends. Friends who'd made a promise to help friends. And we stuck by that promise. Because that what friends do. When they make a promise, they stick to that promise and they never break it unless there is no other choice.

In this case we had no other choice _but_ to stick to it. Two very important lives depended upon it.

I'll, uh… I'll tell you some more in a bit but right now, I need some tissue.

TBC


	17. Chapter 17

Now I know you all think I'm unnecessarily drawing this tale out, instead of just getting to it, but you need to understand something. This isn't an easy tale to tell. (Say that three times real fast.)

Just because we all got up that morning and went about the day as usual, it really wasn't _usual_ for any of us. It was an emotional day for us whether we showed it or not. So please forgive me for taking my time in this and understand. It is not an easy thing to talk about. However, as I've already started, I'll go on.

Now, about noon, things were going normally in the Long Branch. Penny, who usually worked the day time hours, was off. Miss Kitty gave her the time and I stepped in to replace her. Sam was behind the bar for the most part but did go down into the cellar at a certain time to get another keg. Miss Kitty was sitting a table with her ledger book open in front of her working on a long column of figures.

I had just delivered a tray of beers to a table in the back of the room and was headed back to the bar when a man pushed in through the doors and made his way over to the bar. About as wide as he was tall, he had the unmistakable look and clothing of a buffalo hunter and the smell of one to go with it. His hair was dark and shaggy and, though he was clean shaven, that appeared to be the only thing clean about him.

He was most definitely not someone a girl would want to cozy up to, if you know what I mean. (Well, most girls anyway.)

"Whiskey." He grunted at me as I'd stepped behind the bar to fill in for Sam.

Saying nothing,I poured his drink while he looked around the saloon.

It didn't take him long to spot Miss Kitty. Grabbing his drink, he sauntered over to her table and stood still for several moments silently studying her. Not a soul in the room actually blamed him for that, because Miss Kitty was a very beautiful woman and just about every man who ever came into the Long Branch had to look at her at least once.

But this man was about to do more than look.

"Hey, pretty lady." He leered down at her. "What say you and me go upstairs and get to know each other."

Taking her time in looking up at him, Miss Kitty rolled her eyes. "What say we don't?" She shook her head and looked back down at her ledger.

But the man refused to be ignored. "I said we was to go upstairs." The man snapped at her. "Or do I need to get your boss?"

Miss Kitty gave him a wry smile. "I'm the boss around here, Mister. And I'm going nowhere with you. Now, why don't you take your drink and go back over to the bar."

At first the man didn't reply and he actually looked like he was about to do as she told him, but he must've changed his mind when the Marshal pushed through the doors about five seconds later.

Now, let me stop here for a second and tell you that, although I knew the basic plan for the day and about what was to happen, I didn't know every single detail and so I was as fascinated by the scene unfolding before me as everyone else was. And the scene had taken a turn for the serious when the Marshal approached the table.

"Kitty?" He walked up slowly and cautiously as if the man standing there was a wild animal instead of a smelly buffalo hunter. "Anything wrong?"

Miss Kitty's eyes flickered at the ugly man in front of her before turning her gaze to the Marshal. "No," she sighed. "Nothing's wrong. I was just telling this 'gentleman', here, that all business was done downstairs only. Wasn't I, Mister?"

The leather clad man said nothing at first as he glared at first Miss Kitty and then turned his stare to the Marshal. "So that's the way it is." He finally spoke. "That's why you're so high and mighty, you got him and ya think I'm under ya, huh?"

I could tell he was working his way up to something and I moved a little closer to the table, a bar towel in my hand. Why I had that, will become clear in a minute.

Anyway, Miss Kitty looked back at the man with a frown and started to say something to him, but he didn't give her a chance. Without warning, he suddenly snapped his gun into his hand and fired, hitting Miss Kitty in the middle of the chest. She went down immediately. As I was so close to her, I instantly dropped to the floor beside her and laid the towel across her chest and began to wail. "She's dead!"

Since I was still on the floor next to Miss Kitty, I missed some of what happened between the Marshal and the murderer, but Sam, who'd come back upstairs by then, said that the man had turned his gun on the Marshal a split second after shooting Miss Kitty and fired again.

The Marshal, who was one of the fastest draws around, despite the wound on his gun arm some months back, still wasn't fast enough to beat a man who already had the gun drawn and his finger on the trigger. He too, soon followed Miss Kitty to the floor.

It was all over but the shouting within a matter of a few minutes. Sam had raced around the bar and grabbed for his shotgun but the man ran out of the saloon before Sam could heft it and get it cocked.

Louie, who'd come in behind the Marshal and was standing fairly near when he was shot, took off his jacket and hastily threw it across the chest of the fallen lawman before jumping up and running out of the saloon crying at the top of his lungs, "THE MARSHAL AND MISS KITTY"S DEAD!"

Everyone came out of everywhere then and I was hard pressed to keep people away from Miss Kitty while we waited for Doc to come. Thankfully he appeared a minute later and in a swiftness belying his age and rheumatism, bent down next to the Marshal and checked his pulse and pupils. He then moved over to where I sat with Miss Kitty's head in my lap and did the same for her.

He didn't say a word; that old man didn't. He just leaned back on his heels for a minute before looking up at Festus and Newly who'd just got there. His expression told them everything they and everyone else needed to know. With a swipe of his mustache and a soft sad tick of his head, he got back to his feet, taking one last look at the two people lying dead on the floor.

"Newly, Festus, get these people out of here." He finally ordered of the bar patrons who'd witnessed the whole thing and the people who'd crowded in when alerted by Louie. "NOW!"

Although there was a great deal of protesting, and Festus had to personally escort Mr. Burke to the door and push him out, the bar was finally cleared of everyone save, the two dead people and their friends. Just the way they'd wanted it.

TBC


	18. Chapter 18

I could go into great detail about what happened after the barroom was cleared but I won't. I will tell you that once the doors were closed and locked, the two 'dead' people got up off of the floor, gave each one of us either a silent hug or a handshake and then made their way to Miss Kitty's rooms upstairs, to wait until dark.

Percy Crump came in with two empty coffins and left with them full of friendship, and love and sorrow for the two we were losing.

The saloon stayed closed for the rest of the day. Not that it mattered much. No one really felt much like drinking anyway.

A wire was sent to the War Department announcing the death of Matt Dillon and requesting a new Marshal as soon as one could be arranged. Neither Festus or Newly cared to do the job for very long, although they did make themselves as visible as possible so that no one would get the idea that Dodge was easy pickings with Marshal Dillon dead.

Late that night, two people rode away on horseback from the back of the Long Branch. None of us, who knew who they were, knew where they went or anything else and we knew we never would. While not happy about it, we accepted it and at least were happy with the knowledge that these two would be safe, no matter what came or went here in Dodge.

Also late that night, a man with dangerously good looks, hastily shed himself of the filthy buffalo robes he'd been wearing, cleaned himself up and changed into a nice suit with shiny shoes. His job was done and he had a girl he needed to talk to.

Due to the time of year, being hot and all outside, a hasty funeral was arranged and Matt Dillon and Kitty Russell were officially interred into the ground in the Boothill Cemetery. A lot of people were there, some riding in from miles away.

But like I told you at the beginning of this, Matt and Kitty's friends didn't grieve. We knew we'd miss them and we all wished there'd been some other way to protect them so that they'd never had to of left town, but we didn't grieve. You only grieve for those who are really and truly dead.

As I've stated before, I had only been in town less than a year so there were a bunch of people I'd never seen before. But I wasn't the only one. Festus, who'd been standing to my left and Mark, who was standing to my right, both tensed up at one point, when a man approached the graves and looked down at them. Neither man said a word but both of them inched their hands a little closer to their guns.

"Mz. Randi." Festus said very softly. "Ya'd best step back a mite."

Before I could even breathe, Mark had pushed me behind him and he and Festus both moved forward towards the stranger. But the man didn't linger long enough for them to reach him. After dropping a coin into each grave, he turned, mounted his horse and rode off. Mark said later that the coins meant something but he wasn't sure exactly what.

A couple of days after the funeral two more strangers arrived in town. One was the new Marshal. About medium height and build with a slightly graying hair and a large handlebar mustache, he wasn't anything like Matt Dillon. But he was courteous enough and since the war department deemed him suitable for the job, few complained too loudly. Wouldn't have done much good if they had. None of us had any say in the Marshal's replacement.

The other stranger that showed up was a thin man, with dark hair and eyes and a way of constantly sniffing, like a coon hound trying to pick up a track. I swear, I only talked to the man for about 10 minutes but it was the longest ten minutes I could ever recall simply because I wanted to blow his nose for him or something.

He proclaimed himself to be a reporter and he went all over Dodge talking to any and everybody about the incident in the Long Branch. It was now being called "The Incident" because Mr. Harvey over at the Dodge City Clarion called it that when he ran the story of the Marshal and Miss Kitty's murders.

Everybody that talked to the man, who had a strange way of speaking, told him about the same thing. There were a few differences of course, owing to where each person was when it happened and what part, if any, they played in the whole thing. But all in all, the story was the same. A drunken, vengeful and angry buffalo hunter had gunned down two of Dodge City's most respected and loved citizens and rode away before he could get caught.

To be honest with you, I don't really think the man believed us. He seemed awfully suspicious of every body and everything, and he did try hard to prove we were lying. He asked several of us the same questions in different ways. He bought Louie a bottle of whiskey, trying to get him to slip and talk. And he just practically moved in with Mr. Burke as he was the one who talked the most about 'The incident'.

But the man got nothing. Even dear little Louie, with almost a full bottle of whiskey in him didn't say any thing different than any one else. The man even snuck up to the cemetery in the middle of the night to check out the graves. But all he got was a dirty suit after he fell into the empty holes left behind when Festus and Mr. Crump dug up the caskets and moved them.

The last time he was in the Long Branch, I swear that man was frustrated enough to bite a ten penny nail in two. That didn't bother me of course, or any of my friends. Because the more frustrated he was, the more certain we were that our plan had worked and our friends were safe.

And that was really all that mattered to us.

Our friends were safe.

I'll be back in a little bit. By now you should know how it is.

TBC


	19. Chapter 19

Well, everyone, I've just about come to the end of this little tale. There a few things more to tell you concerning 'The Incident", then I'm gonna call it a night. I'm not used to talking so much.

Well, anyway, time passed in Dodge, after Matt Dillon and Kitty Russell died and most people picked up where they left off and went about their business as usual. Now, don't get the idea that they were forgotten, they weren't. Not a soul in town forgot those two.

Not a soul out of town either, for that matter. There was still the occasional stranger that would come into town and ask questions about them; go up to the cemetery and look at the still empty holes. But they always left with the same answer everyone else got. Matt Dillon and Kitty Russell were dead. I often wonder about those strangers and if they were part of that family down in New Orleans or if they were like us, admirers of two really good people.

For a long time afterward, people still talked about the Marshal's exploits and Miss Kitty's beauty and the many, many fine things they did for the town of Dodge City. Some people even got together and took up enough money to commission a couple of plaques in their honor.

Oh, those plaques were nice too, made of bronze and all. There was one for each and each one had the likeness of its honoree engraved on the front. Everybody was real proud when they were finally finished and presented to the town fathers. Trouble was; the town father's had no idea what to do with them.

Of course, they had no idea what to do with a lot of things, but that's another story entirely and I have no desire to tell it.

Anyway, like I said, things kind of went back to the way they were before and life went on for each of us.

Doc Adams retired about a year after this all happened and moved away. He didn't leave a forwarding address and didn't encourage anyone to try and contact him. He said, he'd paid his dues and that was all that could be expected of any man.

Newly married a girl named Mary Florene. I don't know much about her as I only met her a couple of times. Heard she was from the hills and that she had a troublesome brother and cousin, but I don't if that's true or not. She seemed nice enough and it didn't take a genius to see how much she loved Newly. Last I heard, Newly was still the town's gunsmith and he and his wife had three kids.

Festus just up and disappeared one day right after the new marshal arrived. No one in town had the slightest idea of where he went to, but as he was no longer a Deputy US Marshal and he had more than once stated he was thinking of going back to the hills from where he come, everyone figured that's where he went.

Hannah continued to own and operate the saloon until prohibition swept through Kansas and she turned it into a restaurant. She eventually sold out and retired right there in Dodge.

Sam, believe it or not, got married. A woman came to town to visit her son, who had moved there with his wife and ended up stealing Sam's heart soon after they met. She had blue eyes and graying red hair and a spunk unseen since another red head had left Dodge a while back.

Louie went home. Of course, not the way anyone wanted him to. You see, Louie passed away one night about six months after the incident at the Long Branch. It was cold out and Hannah had graciously allowed him to sleep inside the saloon as she was worried about him. She found him the next morning, curled up on a pallet by the stove, a smile on his face. Doc said he drank himself to death.

Not too many people around town cared much to attend his funeral. But I was there, as was Doc and Newly and Sam and Hannah and Mark. Yes, you heard me. Mark.

You see, Mark and I became really close. Maybe it was the circumstances under which we met or perhaps it was fate. (Never really believed in fate, but hey, anything's possible. Right?) But what ever it was that brought us together, we did come together and we were together from then on.

We got married about a year after the Marshal and Miss Kitty left us, right before Doc left, and instantly decided that the both of us wanted a change in what we did for a living. I had wanted to be a saloon girl and thanks to the woman that I still idolize, I became one. But after marrying Mark, I realized he was the only man I'd ever want to entertain again.

And Mark realized that the life of a traveling detective wasn't exactly conducive (last big word) to the life of a married man. He promptly resigned his position and together we sat down and decided our future.

Me? I didn't care what we did or where we went as long as we did it together.

Mark pretty much felt the same way but he did know of a place in Colorado, not too far from Denver, that he'd visited before and really liked. He wasn't sure of what kind of rancher he'd make, but he wanted to try, if I was willing.

I was willing. Shoot, I would've climbed Pike's Peak if he'd a asked me. (I'm so glad he didn't, though. I'm afraid of heights.)

After a trip back to Bug Tussell to visit my papa and brother Gary, who got married himself, by the way, we set off for Colorado. My papa wanted me and Mark to live there but I wasn't about to do that. Don't get me wrong, I loved my papa, loved him a lot, but I knew him. The only way Mark and I could truly live our own life, was somewhere where Papa wasn't.

So off to Colorado we went. It took us about a month after arriving there to find a place that we both liked and to move in but it was worth it. Though the ranch, at 160 acres wasn't huge, it was plenty big enough for us and we were quite happy with our new home.

We were even happier when we finally met our new neighbors. Jim and Amanda Adams were the nicest people you could ever want to know. He was tall and handsome with dark curly hair shot through with gray and these beautiful blue eyes and she was about 5'7' with the same blue eyes and the prettiest red hair and this wonderful infectious laugh. And her voice! She had this wonderful liquidly smoky voice that I loved to listen to.

Though they were in their forties, (she was just barely forty) they were expecting their first child and both of them were so much in love with each other that it was wonderful to be around them.

We found out, the first time we were invited to their place to have supper, that her father, a white haired old man with an equally white mustache that he kept swiping, was living there with them. He was a retired doctor it turned out and they were very glad he would be there when the baby came.

Jim's brother lived there too. Although, you couldn't tell by looking at them that they were related. He was a whole lot shorter than Jim and had a scruffy beard and one eye that was constantly squinting at you like you were the sun and too bright for that one eye. He had a twang to his voice too that kept going long after he stopped speaking and didn't match Jim's way of speaking.

But none of that mattered. They were a family and they were together and for many years, through the birth of not only their first and second child as well as the three children Mark and I had, we were a part of that family. Still are, or at least I am, as they and Mark have passed. But our little girl married their son so they are still, in a way, a large part of my life.

The best part of my life.

Well, I guess it's time to close this little tale. As I've said several times, I'm an old woman now. I have to go visit the water closet and then I think there's another pill of some sort I'm supposed to take and I've promised my grandson, Matt and his sister Kathleen that I'd play a spirited game of checkers with them.

I'd teach em poker, but I was never as good at it as my friend, Ki… I mean, Amanda was. Besides, their mama, my daughter, would be thoroughly upset at me for that. Of course, what my daughter doesn't know….

Ahem… (clears throat loudly). Anyway, thank you for listening and I hope I wasn't too long winded and boring. But as I told you, I was completely smitten by Matt Dillon and Kitty Russell and I truly wanted everyone to know how wonderful they were.

So now I've told you and maybe you'll tell others about them. They deserve to be talked about in a good way. They deserve to be remembered for more than just that one incident. They were the best and I am proud that I was able to call them friends.

And now I have to go. But it was nice talking to you.

Bye!


End file.
